


Venus

by MikaMyers



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Cooking Lessons, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mild Smut, Overstimulation, shumako
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:54:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikaMyers/pseuds/MikaMyers
Summary: Akira and Makoto find themselves cooking once again. He needs help. She decides to help.





	Venus

She pulls her brown hair into the palm of her hand, easily wrapping the excess into a loose ponytail. Her slight hum radiates throughout the kitchen, a dull glow lighting the area in a warm orange.

Makoto turns on the stove and grabs a carton of eggs from the fridge. She places them on top of the counter, opening the cover. 

Her eyes drift to the stove's clock, knowing that sooner or later the telltale signs of her boyfriend entering would occur. She never needed to hear the door open, instead feeling his presence enter before his physical form did. She surmised it to be their ‘bond’ as he liked to call it. Makoto never knew exactly what he meant by that as if it meant more than just their relationship. Akira always did have a peculiar mind.

That doesn't really matter now though. Instead, she felt the warm energy wrap itself around her heart and much like clockwork, she heard the door open soon after.

Akira appears in the kitchen moments after, smoothing out his shirt with one hand while the other clasped a bundle of flowers, much like the design on his shirt.

"Sorry for being late. Wanted to pick something up first." He hands her the daisies, alongside a shy smile, one that reaches to his gray eyes.

She was always enamored with them, sensing a warmth in the dark mist that surrounded the pupils, saved only for her. Always for her.

Makoto merely replied with a smile of her own, taking the pink daisies in her hands and wrapping her fingers around the stem. She clasps it to her chest and sighs, wondering how she got so lucky.

"I take it that you liked the choice in flowers," he guesses, stepping closer to kiss her on the forehead. The action connected them briefly, it becoming severed once he backed away. "We can find a vase for it later. Right now I wanna get started."

"Someone’s excited at burning the eggs again," Makoto teases. earning the flushed look that she had come to associate with him. He may have been the leader of their ragtag group, but he saved a shy and sweet side that only came out around her. Her eyes roamed the pale skin contrasting his curly black locks, teased fashionably as if he was trying to impress everyone. It certainly was her first thought when she had seen him. But… sometimes people merely want to be beautiful.

Kurusu Akira was a beautiful person indeed. 

She places the flowers on the back counter, returning to the stove with a pan that she rests on top of the flame.

Makoto knew breakfast was the most important meal of the day but admittedly didn't care much for the food, and certainly didn't care to have it for dinner either.

It was funny how much you could change with the right influence.

Akira had begged and pleaded for God knows how long to have breakfast for dinner, the reasoning why was beyond her. It got to the point where he made a point to bring it up whenever food was briefly mentioned.

She compelled, only on the condition that he would learn to cook alongside making the meals. Makoto wasn't going to have herself be held hostage making something she didn't even really enjoy just for his pleasure.

Surprisingly, he seemed more on board with that idea.

It became a weekly ritual for them to have it. She had even managed to get him to cook halfway decently, an accomplishment considering his lack of culinary skills.

There was always something he could never quite grasp though, and that was cooking the eggs. Whether it be too raw or burnt to a crisp, Akira had never managed to make an edible plate of them.

Makoto hates to admit it but she was sure this time would be no different.

"You remember what I said? Make sure not to let them simmer for too long." Makoto watches from the sidelines as he nods, grabbing an egg and cracking it against the skillet, letting the yolk descend into the pan.

His eyes squint, determined in successfully cooking them. Makoto found the expression adorable, especially compared to the fact that this was the guy to be a supposed delinquent. How one could ever truly believe that was truly beyond her. Makoto had never met someone so passionate, whether it be for the welfare of his fellow peers, or in the vain attempt of cooking eggs for dinner 

A curse escapes under his breath, the smell of burning edges wafting into the kitchen. His gaze turns to her, forlorn as if he was a puppy that had just been kicked.

Makoto merely smiles, taking the pan and scraping the contents into the trash. She could admit being mad the first few times but at this point, she was just feeling bad for him.

"I'm sure I'll get it right this time." His voice is confident, unwavering even but the telltale signs of worry were etched into his face. He watches her place the skillet back onto the flame, biting his bottom lip at having to try again.

A quiet grasp leaves him when he feels her body press against his back, her arms snaking around his hips and head planted softly into his shoulder.

"Why don't we try this together?" She leaves a chaste kiss against his neck, leaving the spot warm and tingly. 

Even if they had been together for a few months at this point, friends say longer than that, his mind disconnected from his body at the loving action. Numbly, his hand reaches for another egg, having trouble keeping it in his grasp.

Her fingers interconnect with his, helping him pick up the egg and crack it against the pan. Once the yolk was sizzling, she proceeded to help him with keeping it going, the kitchen on a soothing silence beside the occasional sizzle from the pan.

Akira's breathing hitched with every movement she gave, the occasional shift from her body behind him, or the warm exhale that tickled his shoulder and neck. Makoto quickly caught on, and allowed her free hand to trail down his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

His face remained impartial at first to the action, either focused intently on his cooking or simply trying his best to not seek flustered. If Makoto knew one thing with one hundred percent certainty, it was that Akira wore his heart on his sleeve. This time would prove no different.

She savors every aching breath or blooming shade of red his cheeks took, delighted by his response from her simple actions. It almost made her feel bad, how flushed he became simply by her touch. It also gave her a sense of control, one that was growing quickly with the way the evening was becoming.

It wasn't long until her hand was underneath his shirt, fingers grazing against his taut skin and feeling the goosebumps prickle with her touch.

"Make sure to move them," she murmurs against his shoulder, his inhale rippling his muscles like a tidal wave. Akira pushes the eggs to the side of the pan, legs shifting side to side.

Makoto wasn't sure what was overcoming her, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. The feeling of making someone squirm so easily was something cherished if a little embarrassing.

Her fingers find themselves dragging lower and lower, the buckle of his belt merely being an obstacle to the destination she wanted.

"Oh!" 

Akira's eyes widened at where her hand had landed, his teeth digging into the skin of his lip as she began to tease him through his jeans.

Makoto starts slowly at first, letting herself trace the outline of his growing bulge. She doesn't want to go too quickly, rather wanting him to feel the minutes pass without her increasing the intensity. She wanted to see him work for it.

His hips buck at the sensation, a battle of caving under pressure or go on strong tugging him into two differing directions. But God, the need for more stimulation was enough to release a frustrated groan from him.

She could tell he was starting to buckle under and simply continued with the pace she has been doing. A trail of kisses dissolved into nipping at his neck, the skin turning tender and raw from her incessant care. Makoto pushed herself even closer to him, rubbing herself onto his trembling body.

At that point, she had let her other hand free from helping him cook and let it roam underneath his shirts much like she originally had been doing. This time, however, he fingers run against the bud of his nipple, earning a sigh from her boyfriend.

Akira's face has become sweaty from the combination of steam and his body going into overdrive from her touch. He really couldn't muster the strength to save his dignity, so he throws caution to the wind and lets himself rub against her invading fingers.

A chuckle rumbled through her body, adding to the layers of stimulation he was receiving. She picks up the pace with her fingers, rubbing and prodding more intently both at his hard cock and erect nipples. Makoto knew that Akira was sensitive to any type of stimulation, but this was on a whole new playing field. It was almost as if she was let in on a secret, another one to add between the two of them.

His breathing was shallow, any attempts at keeping his volume down now out the window with each passing second giving him more momentum to moan louder into her ear. 

She could tell he was close, the friction becoming faster between the couple ae his pelvis desperately thrusts into her hand for more pleasure, for more release, for more of her. Makoto hadn't even been realizing it but Akira had started to moan her name under his breath, the chant growing louder and louder until his hands were gripping the counter and he made one final thrust. A blissful sigh of relief followed soon after.

Makoto retracted her wandering hands, wrapping them around his chest and giving a tight squeeze. His breathing calmed soon after, a light humming following from his end.

They stood like that for who knows how long, basking in each others company. It wasn't as if they hadn't fooled around before, but this time marked something special. Whether it was because of the spontaneity of it, or even the power balance between the two, neither could tell.

"Hey, these look perfect." Makoto praises suddenly, gesturing to the cooked eggs. "I'm proud of you, Akira."

His grin lit the room, overpowering the orange glow that had been previously lighting the kitchen. His face was still flushed and maybe a tad embarrassed, but the confident thief shined through.

And there was nothing more beautiful than his smile. Venus as a boy one might say.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first time writing smut so I apologize if this is some low-quality writing from me. I wanted to get some experience with writing it and why not do it with a favorite couple of mine? This is honestly just pure fluff with smut intertwined with it. As with a lot of my writings, this was inspired by "Venus as a Boy" by Björk which I HIGHLY recommend you all take a listen to. A really good song. I take this piece as a future-fic for my other Makoto/Akira writings but honestly, it can be taken as just a standalone. That's about all I have to say. Again, my apologies if this isn't the best thing written but I hope to improve as time goes on with my writing abilities. Thank you for reading! Peace.


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